


Black/Brown

by costumejail



Series: Hyper Thrust Pride Week [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Gen, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), One Shot, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costumejail/pseuds/costumejail
Summary: Party Poison offers to dye Fun Ghoul's hair.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Party Poison (Danger Days), Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Hyper Thrust Pride Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779970
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	Black/Brown

**Author's Note:**

> This is day one of the Hyper Thrust Pride Week that is being organized by

“Las’ chance.” Party Poison wiggled the half-empty bottle of hair bleach at Fun Ghoul.

A glob of bleach dripped off of Poison’s scalp and onto the shoulder of their t-shirt. 

Ghoul suppressed a snort and raised an eyebrow, “I’ll pass.”

“Your loss.” Not seeming overly put out by Ghoul’s refusal, Poison turned his head to shout down the hallway. “K! Ditch your boy f’r five minutes an’ lemme do your hair.”

A moment later, the door to the broadcast room opened and the Kobra Kid wandered out, rubbing a hand over the side of his neck somewhat sheepishly. 

“Did I in’errupt somethin’? Actually, on secon’ thought I don’ wanna know.” 

When Poison patted the patch of floor in front of their seat on the couch, Kobra sat. His eyes fluttered shut as Poison started to mess with his hair, pushing it this way and that before squirting bleach from the bottle and rubbing it into Kobra’s roots.

“Ya really left it t’ grow out this time, didn’ you?” Observed Ghoul, leaning in for a second before the bleach fumes sent him reeling backwards. “You’ve got ‘s much roots as y’ do blond there, Kobes.”

“Well,” the dry sarcasm in Kobra’s words was completely at odds with his relaxed appearance. “Someone decided it was more important to trash the bathroom at Tommy’s than to actually buy the shit we needed him to.”

Ghoul flushed, “I got locked ‘n th’ stall! If I wanted t’ trash the bathroom I’d’ve broken way more’n one stall. ‘Sides, ‘s not like hair dye’s a _necessity.”_

“Weapons a’ the door, boys,” chided Poison, not looking up from their brother’s scalp. “An’ I resent that. Y’think ‘joy’s’d be half as hated by BL/ind if we didn’ fuck up their whole ‘neutral colours’ bullshit?”

“I don’t think BL/ind hates us because we wear _colours,_ Pois.” Kobra cracked an eye to stare Poison down.

“ _Thank you,_ ” vindicated, Ghoul clapped a hand to Kobra’s shoulder, their previous spat already forgotten. “There’s nothin’ wrong with rockin’ a natural black. Plus, ‘s only really th' city kids that’re dye hards. Y’go to th’ market, nine times outta ten the kids with th’ craziest colours’re fresh undergrads. Bit of a waste ‘f good tradin’ if ya ask me.”

“I don’t think I did.” Whatever pacifying tone Poison had adopted vanished, replaced with the kind of venom he usually reserved for snarling insults at exterminators. “Spend nineteen years in the city, you’d be desperate for a change too. It’s not a crime to not want to look drab as fuck and it’s not a fucking waste of trading to _express yourself.”_

“‘Drab as fuck’?” Ghoul’s vision went red. “Fuck you, Pois. Where d’you get off bein’ such a fuckin’ prick?”

“Well fuck, maybe if you didn’t literally _just_ say you thought I was wasting goods on my hair. Some of us didn’t fucking settle for what we were given-”

“Oh, y’think I’m _settlin’_ because what? I don’ spend half my life makin’ sure that I look th’ part of a ‘joy? Because I know tha’ I don’ need a fuckin’ head full o’ peroxide t’ have BL/ind on my case? I didn’t _choose_ t’ have BL/ind hate me, I was lucky ‘nough that just bein' _born_ made ‘em want me dead.”

Ghoul began to pace up and down the length of the diner. Still at the couch, Poison stood and followed Ghoul’s movements with laserlike focus.

“I didn’t choose this! Fuck you. BL/ind was _killing_ me and it was killing Kobes. We didn’t belong in the city an-”

“Keep fuckin’ telling yourself tha’. Y’keep dyin’ your hair, puttin’ on that fake accent tryin’ t’ talk like a sandpup, walkin’ around like y’ own the zones as if BL/ind wouldn’ welcome you _with open arms_ if y’ decided that you were done with playin’ rebel.”

“Get out.”

Ghoul stopped and turned to take in the sight of Poison. Their shoulders shook, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. Kobra had scooted to the side of the couch, clearly not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. Stunned, Ghoul’s mouth dropped open, but Poison didn’t let him get a word out.

“You heard me. Take your shitty fucking desertborn elitism and your self-righteous attitude and your stupid fucking undyed hair and get out of my fucking diner.”

“Pois-”

“I said get out!” Poison hurled the dye bottle at Ghoul, who was too stunned to even attempt to dodge it. The bottle bounced off of Ghoul’s chest and rolled across the floor.

Ghoul shut his mouth with a snap and walked out of the diner. The bell above the door tinkled cheerfully as the door swung shut behind him. After it became clear that Poison wasn’t going to move, Kobra got to his feet and slowly headed towards his sibling.

“Par-”

“I have to wash this out.” Without waiting for a response, Poison stalked towards the bathroom and slammed the door. 

The lock slid into place with a sound like a gunshot, and the diner fell silent once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hm. I've never really written just, unresolved arguing like that. It was kinda fun but also I feel bad leaving it like that. Let me know what you thought!


End file.
